Bething's Folly by Bárbara Metzger Read Free Book Online Page B

sold off huge plots of Bething Manor’s unproductive acreage, keeping only what he needed to raise fodder and for pasturage. He went completely into debt to renovate his barns and stables, to purchase blood stock. No one thought he could make a go of it and some considered him crazy, calling his scheme Bething’s Folly. The name must have stuck, although Carleton believed he had heard of some fine horses coming from the stud recently. He did not recall anything about Lady Bethingame, but he was aware that Lord Bethingame had died some years before. Carleton had never concerned himself with the Folly beyond that, even though it was within an hour’s ride of Carlyle Hall. His father would know the complete history, he was sure, and Margaret must be of an age with Miss Bethingame, and he planned to make enquiries. In the meantime he could not help asking the lady herself if she was perhaps betrothed to someone else that made the high-handed Lord Carleton so ineligible a suitor for her—and Bething’s Folly. She was not betrothed, she declared indignantly, and astonished him even further by stating her intention to remain unwed.
    “But Miss Bethingame, surely you cannot run the place alone, and must eventually wed anyway...”
    “You are sounding suspiciously like Uncle Aubry,” obviously no compliment. “I am nineteen, sir, and have been managing Bething’s Folly for two years now. We are beginning to show a profit. We have excellent prospects for this year and great plans for the future. Do you think I would let my father’s dream become a rich man’s plaything, or be sold to pay a poor one’s gambling debts?”
    Carleton considered. Under English law, a woman’s property did become her husband’s at marriage, to do with what he would, so he had to acknowledge Miss Bethingame’s statements. He just could not believe some handsome young fellow had not come along to change her mind. “And Uncle Aubry?” he asked.
    “He is furious the Folly didn’t come to him along with the title, though he never approved of it in the first place. He is positive I cannot manage it, even when he sees that I can. Furthermore, he sees no reason to bother with my welfare and is determined to marry me off—most likely for a handsome settlement—to a widower friend in Lancashire who needs a mother for his three children. The widower is not even interested in racing.” That was truly a scathing denunciation, from Miss Bethingame’s tone of voice.
    “But I take it Uncle Aubry is your guardian,” Carleton insisted. “Surely he can force you to wed, or take over the Folly if he really feels it would be in your best interest?” Carleton was truly curious, and the girl responded, treating him like a co-conspirator.
    “He has threatened to try, but my father’s will was very explicit: The Folly is mine, to own and to manage. He trusted me. I have hired lawyers to look into that very thing, and they tell me that if I keep proper records and do not go any further into debt, then Uncle Aubry has no claims. As for marriage, I do not believe even Uncle Aubry would carry me to the altar, kicking and screaming. Could you see the stir it would make?”
    The Marquis could, and he could even sympathise as she went on to explain the difficulties she would be in if Carleton did offer for her, for her uncle would have apoplexy if she refused. He might even attempt to have her declared mentally incompetent! This only recalled to mind Carleton’s own difficulties, and especially the situation he had got himself into now, accepting the child’s confidences. He smiled at the thought. This “child” was running a successful horse farm and had more control over her life than he had of his!
    She smiled back at him, and again he marvelled that her warmth was so genuine, that there was no artistry or flirting. He was about to ease into a confession when Ferddie Milbrooke burst into the room.
    “Oh, there you are, Carleton! The Duchess is in a rare